An Unearthly Cuppa
by lisaisanut
Summary: A quick tea-break from saving the universe doesn't go quite to plan, as an entirely new life-form manifests itself within the TARDIS. A life-form made entirely from tea.


The Angel Darkstorm. Black hole and nebula meeting in perfect harmony deep within the furthest reaches of space.

Only those with exclusive passes could access it, the nearby viewing platforms closely regulated by the Shadow Proclamation, you had to be almost excessively rich to afford even a minute of time viewing it's ultimate splendour…

That, or own a space-time machine.

The TARDIS floated silently a mere 23,111,963 miles away from the vibrant pink, purple and blue dancing lights that made up the eye of the Darkstorm. Just tip-toeing the edge of its gravitational pull, this was the Doctor's favourite place for quiet reflection after the redevelopment of the Eye of Orion into a galaxy-wide tourist attraction.

The time-lord sat on a deck chair beside the TARDIS, a two-metre piece of yarn tied from the armrest to the door handle being the only thing keeping him from floating off into the abyss.

He noisily slurped his tea out of a fine, bone china cup, the shimmering edges of the Darkstorm reflected perfectly in his pupils, radiating pink light throwing his aging face into sharp relief. His latest regeneration was that of an old man, his hair sat steel grey upon his head, and his skin unceremoniously hanging loosely off his face making him look almost like an aged bulldog.

He dressed appropriately. A simple red dinner jacket, crisp white shirt, black trousers and buckle-shoes. No muss. No fuss.

"Oh, rats" said the old man, scowling at the dry bottom of his cup, "Bone china, they said… It's the best for someone of your age, they said… I got like two mouthfuls out of this dainty thing, someone of my age doesn't want to be getting up for a damn refill every minute". The Doctor grumbled and groaned as he heaved himself up from the chair and dove with surprising agility towards the entrance to his home, his long fingers closing around the door frame and easily tugging himself into the gravity of the console room.

His feet hit the soft, carpeted floor and instantly he felt his weight holding him to the ground. The sensation of transitioning from weightlessness was weird.

The desktop theme reflected the Doctor's newfound age, gone were the sterile grey walls, gone was the unhomely feel to the console room - the curved walls were panelled with cherry and stacked high with bookshelves, plush burgundy rugs covered the ground, several ladders for reaching the topmost books (some held together with duct tape) and a single, tatty, worn out arm chair. In the very centre of the rabble, the console. Covered in random objects from years of travel, but loved and taken care of as well as anything in the universe.

The Doctor called her Dear.

As he wove his way through stacks of papers, books and plastic dinosaurs, the Doctor hummed a tune to himself, his hand lighting brushing over all the implements on the console as he passed them, finally settling on a bright green button.

Clunk. Whirl. Click, click, click- snap. Error. Whirling. Whirling. Clunk. Click.

The soundtrack to making tea. Eventually, a small pillar rose from the console, just large enough to place a mug, a copper pipe winding it's way around it, protruding in an arch like a snake rearing to attack at the top, reading to dispense the delights.

The Doctor turned his lip up in disgust at how easily the bone china cup fit atop the pillar. He liked it to be precariously balanced, it meant a larger cup, which meant more tea- Maybe he should invest in a cappuccino cup? That'd certainly fit more than a mouthful- PING.

Something hit the Doctor square in the middle of the forehead, he yelped in surprise as steam burst out of the pillar and sprayed merrily in the air.

"Damn rivet!", he said, rubbing the mark the burst rivet left on his forehead has he plugged the hole in the pipe with his finger.

The tea pillar groaned dangerously, and precisely three seconds before it happened, the Doctor said, "Please don't explode".

The Doctor opened his eyes, he had been blown backwards by the force of the tea-machine and knocked into a stack of papers. Gingerly, he pawed at his torso, examining himself.

"Good…", he muttered absentmindedly, "My jacket isn't damaged". He pushed himself off the stack and stumbled over to the console, the tea-pillar was split from top to bottom, the edges of the copper burning bright white from the heat of the explosion. Small pieces of charred paper floated down from the ceiling, blanketing the surreal scene with almost blossom-like confetti.

"Well, that was a minor inconvenience", said the Doctor, delicately retrieving his Sonic Screwdriver from the inner lining of his jacket and pulling the collar down, allowing the silver coil atop it to scan for any unseen destruction.

"All looks pretty good, a blown fuse, but honestly in a time machine much worse could happ- Oh, what's this?", the Doctor paused, the screwdriver detected an abnormality in the molecular makeup of the water particles in the air. He squinted, shaking the screwdriver a little, before activating it again. The droplets in the air raced from every corner of the console room, gathering together in a single, neat sphere. But it wasn't water.

The calm, warming, stress-relieving, medium brown coloured ball of molecular madness that was a floating ball of tea hung in the middle of the console room like a polite guest.

"Uhh… That's a little unusual", he eyed the cricket-ball-sized tea sphere with bemusement, "Where in the world did you come from?". Cautiously, the Doctor extended a bony index finger towards it, prodding the surface lightly. Calm ripples waved across it, three rings of disturbed tea moving around the globe and meeting again at the other si- SPLOOSH.

The tea-sphere imploded in on itself, before shooting like a jet through the air and straight out the door into the inky blackness of space. The Doctor stood still for a moment, completely stunned, his finger still outstretched, his mouth hanging ajar. He blinked.

"I have no idea what just happened".

He crossed the console room in a few strides, gripping the doorframe and leaning outside. In the distance, the tea-sphere was violently twisting and turning, as though caught in some trap. The pink light from the Darkstorm seemed to create an eery glow around the edges of the sphere- No, the light was radiating from the sphere itself. What was happening?

The Doctor watched on in interest as the light grew brighter, almost blindingly so, before receding into the ball completely…

"Well, that was boring", said the Doctor, disappointedly clicking his tongue. He made to move back inside the console room when the sphere of tea warped into a humanoid form.

The change was almost instant, one second a ball of medium-brown liquid, the next a creature human in shape, if a little smaller, made of the same liquid. It didn't have eyes, but it examined it's body all the same, holding it's hand up to it's face studiously. The Doctor watched in amazement as a new lifeform experienced itself for the first time, this new, delicate creature poring over every detail of it's smooth surface, drinking itself in (no pun intended).

No, wait, it's surface wasn't smooth. It was wrinkled. It's face almost a low-resolution copy of an old man's. The Doctor squinted.

"What did the Darkstorm do…? Giving tea sentience, that's a new one", he said to himself. The tea perked up, it's head snapping in the direction of the sound. Suddenly, it was beside the Doctor. It didn't teleport, just move very, very fast.

Mere centimetres away from it's face, the Doctor examined the new creature. He frowned at the wrinkles, it's human appearance; it was liquid, it ought not have formed into such an unusual geometric shape, the sphere was a much easier form for something being held together by unknown forces to maintain. Why choose an old human?

The face sharpened, the wrinkles became more defined and the creature gave itself eyes. The Doctor blinked at it, the creature blinked back.

"You're imitating me!", he exclaimed with delight. The creature had copied the only biological life form it could see, given itself an appearance it assumed was normal. "I don't know what to say, they say imitation is the highest form of flattery, so I must be grateful". The creature tilted it's head, and a mouth formed below it's rapidly sharpening nose. When it spoke, the voice seemed to come from everywhere, yet nowhere at once, and maintained a somewhat gurgly quality.

"I don't know what to say, they say imitation is the highest form of flattery, so I must be grateful". The Doctor could almost have jumped for joy.

"Oh, that's fabulous. That's absolutely, unequivocally delightful", he said, hopping from one foot to the other in a display of giddiness. Reaching out with a finger, he politely requested of the creature, "May I?"

It tilted it's head. He took that as a yes, gently tapping it's surface. A ripple began, but quickly receded back into the humanoid form. The Doctor squinted, and very lightly held his hand out flat and sunk it into the chest of the creature. Had he been able to view this from a third person perspective, it would have looked incredibly weird. A old man, sticking his hand through the chest of a translucent, naked, tea-coloured copy of himself.

"May I?", the creature gurgled, suddenly stepping forward and passing right over the Doctor as it wandered into the TARDIS.

The Doctor spluttered. He was soaked through.

Inside the TARDIS, the creature stood by the console, gazing at the shredded tea-pillar. The Doctor walked towards one of the exposed wooden panels and pressed his palm against it, causing it to spring open and reveal a hidden drawer. He reached inside and pulled out a towel, drying himself off, never once taking his eyes off the creature that held it's hand out over the pillar, almost as though existentially pondering it's origins.

Leaving the creature to it's existential crisis, the Doctor replaced the towel and closed the drawer, before pressing his hand over a different section of the panel. This time when it popped out of the wall, it held a modern espresso machine and a stack of shallow coffee mugs.

Preparing himself a coffee, the Doctor paid little mind to the tea-creature. He tapped his spoon against the side of his steaming cup, smiling a little as he picked it up and turned back around-

"ARGH!", he yelped, coming nose to nose with the creature, cursing as he spilt scalding hot coffee all over himself, "Bugger it!".

The creature stared into the Doctor's pale blue eyes, before casting it's own towards the espresso machine. It looked back up at him and furrowed it's brow.

"Bugger it", it repeated, reaching out and splashing it's hand against the machine ineffectively. It furrowed it's brow deeper, looking at the hand and the small amount of moisture it had left on the machine.

"Are you trying to break my coffee machine?", the Doctor asked.

"Bugger", the creature murmured, splashing it's hand against the machine, the moisture pooling around the base.

"Please stop it", the Doctor eyed the electronic cables wearily.

"Bugger", the creature splashed the machine, more tea pooling around the base.

"Stop!"  
"Bugger!", splash.

"Stop!"

"Bugger!", splash!

"Stop it!"

"Bugger it!", fzzt! The machine spewed ancrid black smoke from its interior as the tea around it was electrified and began cooking the plastic structure.

"God, damn it!", the Doctor cursed, taking a step back from the machine as it stained the deep maroon, cherry panelling an ugly black colour. "Why would you do that?!"

The creature looked up at the Doctor thoughtfully, it's eyes almost giving away an innate curiosity, a trait the time-lord admired. He could tell. This was the moment when the new, sentient being would truly be understood for the first time…

"Bugger it", the tea creature gurgled. The Doctor threw his arms into the air in frustration, pacing over to the console before whipping back around to face the creature.

"Y'know, I've had both a penguin and a mechanical t-rex called Kevin as a companion before, and yet they both could hold much more stimulating conversation than you!", he yelled at it. The creature tilted it's head, and held an arm out towards the neatly stacked bookshelves. The Doctor narrowed his eyes, lowering his voice to a threatening whisper.

"Go ahead… I dare you".

The creature leapt forward, reaching it's arm towards the aged, flaking spines of thousands of rare first editions. The Doctor reacted with almost lightning speed, spinning on his heel and jamming the Sonic Screwdriver into a plug in the console and slamming his fist down onto a palm-sized, clock-faced button.

Everything stopped. The smoke pouring from the machine; froze.

The creature, reaching towards a mint condition, first edition copy of Philosophiæ Naturalis Principia Mathematica; froze.

The usually blinking, sparkling lights on the console; froze.

The grandfather clock, that sat upside down on the ceiling because the Doctor had accidently made it immune to gravity one lonely Sunday and couldn't figure out how to get it down again; froze.

Everything, just stopped. Except the Doctor.

He relaxed his shoulders, clearing his throat and undoing the buttons on his coffee-stained jacket, carefully removing it and lying it over the time-rotor. He took his time while weaving his way through the stacks that adorned his carpet, slowly making his way towards the frozen creature. When he was but a mere few feet from it, he smiled sadly.

"Sorry about this, but it has to be done.", he said, picking his fallen coffee cup off the ground, "Can't you have ruining both my coffee machine and priceless volumes in one day, that's just bad form. Like meeting the Cyberman and dying of old age on the same day". He slid the coffee mug over the creatures surface, gathering as much tea as would fit, before drinking it down in a single gulp.

"Ooh, that's a little…", the Doctor frowned as he tried to find the right word to express himself, "Y'know what, bugger being smart, that's a horrendous cup of tea. Where's my sugar?"

If time wasn't frozen within the console room, it would've taken the Doctor half an hour to drink the entire creature (after adding a copious amount of sugar and an entire bottle of milk). As it was, it took him no time at all.

The clock-faced button popped up out of the console, and the smoke began billowing out of the coffee machine again. The Doctor pressed the drawer back into the wall, had it not been for the obvious, ugly black stain that crept up the wall like a disease, you'd never be able to guess that a damaged coffee machine was slowly eroding the inside of a delicate piece of machinery.

"Well… Today was eventful", said the Doctor, wryly eying the damage to his wall and the split tea-pillar. "Y'know what, dear. I think I'll just go to the Eye of Orion and get a massage, I've had quite enough of the Angel Darkstorm for this life".

The TARDIS groaned approvingly, and the time-rotor began to move up and down, as the familiar wheezing noise echoes through the console room, and everything began to shake violently.

On and on. Gotta keep running.


End file.
